3

Fiona

The dayafter Li came home, I’d spent the morning with Shannon, helping with the babies. Cymbeline met me as I walked in the door.

She was already dressed for dinner in a short gown made of purple material that shimmered under the overhead light of the foyer. “There you are,” Cym said, grabbing my hands and swinging me around. “Papa has a surprise for you.”

What had happened? She seemed different, with a glow that made her even more beautiful than usual. “What kind of surprise?”

“Mama and Papa are in the sitting room with their tea. They want you to come in when you’re ready.”

I slipped out of my coat and hung it in the closet. What could they have to surprise me? I already had everything I wanted. Except for Li. Still, I had hope. The way he’d looked at me yesterday, a stirring of surety had simmered inside me.

A fire warmed the room. Papa and Mama sat near the fireplace. The light from the fire cast the room in a gauzy orange hue.

Cym dragged me over to the couch to sit opposite our parents. Mama’s cheeks were pink. She held a letter in her hands.

“Ah, there you are, sweetheart,” Papa said. “We've been waiting for you.”

“I’ll get you a cup of tea,” Cym said as she leaned forward to pour from the silver pitcher.

“What is it?” My stomach turned over. “You’re all very mysterious.”

“This is a letter from an old friend of mine.” Papa gestured toward Mama, prompting her to hand me the envelope.

The postmark was from Paris. Who did we know in Paris?

Papa continued, as if it were the most ordinary news in the world. “He’s connected in the music world over in Paris, and he’s secured you a mentorship with a Mr. Pierre Basset.”

“He’s supposed to be the best voice teacher in the world,” Cym blurted out.

“A stretch perhaps,” Papa said. “But he is supposed to be quite talented at bringing out the best in his young protégés.”

“Many have gone on to careers singing in the opera or theater in Paris and London,” Mama said.

What had any of that to do with me? I waited to hear more.

“This Mr. Basset has been persuaded to teach you for a period of time. If you prove to be as talented as we know you are, he can arrange for other opportunities. He’s well connected in the art community.”

“A real career,” Cym said. “Not singing at church or the club like you’re doing now.”

“But I like singing at church,” I said. “Nothing makes me feel closer to God.”

“Yes, but darling, this is a chance to study with one of the great teachers,” Mama said. “This kind of chance doesn’t come often.”

“When is he arriving?” I asked, succumbing to my fate. I wasn’t ambitious, but if they all wanted me to have the opportunity for further study, then I would go along with it.

“No, sweetheart, you would go to Paris,” Papa said. “We’ll rent an apartment for you and hire a maid.”

Mama clasped her hands above her chest. “Isn’t it exciting?” In the next moment, her face fell. “But, darling girl, I’ll miss you very much. You’ll be gone for such a long time and far away.”

“If I go,” I said, voice as shaky as the rest of me. “What if Cym needs me? She’s going to have a baby.”

“Not for ages,” Cym said. “You’ll be back by then.”

“You want to go, don’t you?” Papa asked.

“I suppose.” I avoided Cymbeline’s gaze. She would be disappointed in me if I refused to go, my sister who craved adventure. “I quite like it here, playing music for people I know.”

Mama studied me, her brown eyes indulgent. Of all of my siblings, it was me she most often looked at in this way. Even my youngest sisters, who were her own blood children, didn’t invoke the same tolerance. I’d been only three when Mama came to us. We were as bonded as if I’d come from her womb. There was something special between Mama and me, a quality I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Two souls so alike that when we were together, they seemed to call out to each other—ah yes, it’s you.

“If you don’t want to go, we will not force you,” Mama said. “However, I’ve learned from my own experiences that doing something somewhat terrifying can lead to one’s true destiny.”

“Perhaps that’s what I’m frightened of,” I said. What if my destiny took me far away from my family and the mountains of Colorado? What if my destiny was not Li?

“It’s only natural, love,” Papa said in his British cadence, still very evident despite his many years in America. “To be afraid, that is. Courage is not the lack of fear, you know.”

“But the ability to do whatever it is that scares us anyway,” I said. Papa had told us this many times. I wanted to be brave, but not as much as I wanted to run up to my bedroom and bury my head under one of our soft pillows.

Mama clapped her hands in her lap and spoke excitedly. “They’re much more progressive in France than we are in America. You’ll learn a lot about art and culture.”

“I’ll have to go on the ship all by myself?” I asked, not nearly as excited by the prospect of exchanging a Colorado spring with all our wildflowers and birds and walks along the river. Wasn’t that nature’s art? The next thoughts came fast. What would it be like to be all alone? With Cym, I could do it. The thought of sleeping all alone in a cabin sounded terrible. And an apartment in Paris with a stranger as a maid? It was unthinkable.

“How would I get there?” I asked. “I’d need someone to accompany me.”

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net